Lifting Weights
by spottedhorse
Summary: Martin is looking after Louisa after her surgery. Post Season 6 so there are spoilers of a sort.
1. Chapter 1

Martin Ellingham is probably the most complex character I've ever come across on television, I think. I've seen the film, Saving Grace, from where the inspiration came but that Doc Martin as little in common with the Doc Martin of the series. That Doc Martin seems to be more of what Martin Clunes is like, from the few interviews I've seen. And that makes his portrayal of Ellingham even more fascinating. There is a little bit of all of us in Martin Ellingham probably; it's just that Martin Ellingham is so much more honest about it, painfully so. I don't own the series and have nothing to do with any of it. But I do like to borrow the characters and play with them a little.

I hope you enjoy this little piece. Please let me know what you think of it. I'm still struggling to get the voices right, but I talk a lot and Martin doesn't.

* * *

He stood in the doorway and watched her sleep. She looked more comfortable, more relaxed than he could remember seeing her in recent months. Beyond that, she looked beautiful; but of course, to his eyes she always did. A soft sigh escaped him as he watched her. How had they come to this place? How had he let it happen?

Things had never been easy between them, largely because he wasn't easy, he acknowledged to himself. But the events of the last few days, the sports day fiasco, the horrible sound of her coming in contact with that car, the hospital, barely getting to her in time and getting her off that plane, the surgery, all of it had taken a toll. Thankfully she had agreed to come back home while she recovered. It hadn't taken too much coaxing, just his promise to give her space.

His eyes flickered over the darkening room. It would be completely dark soon, the sun having set. He was sleeping in James' room but his clothes were still in here, as was the bathroom. Quietly he gathered his nightclothes and slipped into the bathroom to ready himself for the night. James was already in bed and he would be soon, even if it was just to read his medical journals. Normally that was something he would do downstairs but he needed to be close to his family physically, even if he couldn't be emotionally.

Ruth had given him the name of a therapist in London, who had referred him to a colleague in Truro. The first appointment was the following week. Ruth had been pleased when he informed her and had even encouraged him. But _she_ didn't know about it yet. Talking was still difficult for them.

He finished cleaning his teeth and patted his face dry with a towel. Carefully he opened the door after switching off the light. As he stepped into the now dark bedroom, he heard her stir. "Martin?"

He liked the way she said his name, emphasis on the 't'; no one else said it quite like she did. "Yes?"

"Um…what time is it?" she asked groggily.

"Almost nine," he said softly. "I um…I was just preparing for bed." His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could see her struggling to sit up. "Here, let me help you…" He scooted around the bed and took her arm in his hand hoping to give her something solid to hold onto.

"Thank you," she murmured as she settled against the headboard.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in precise measured tones, falling into 'doctor mode' as she called it.

"Um…better, I think. Headache is gone, shoulder is sore but not as much. I…"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm a little hungry actually."

"Oh…er…there is some soup. I could warm it for you." The weight in his chest suddenly feeling lighter as there was something he could do for her.

"That would be nice. Thank you."

"Yes, well…alright then." He turned away and left the room, eager to do anything to help his Louisa. At the bottom of the steps he paused. How much longer would she be his to help?

Busy with heating the soup, he didn't hear her come into the lounge and stand at the edge of the kitchen. It was only when he turned to put a napkin and spoon on the tray that he realized she was there, watching him. "I would have brought it up to you," he said gently.

"I know," she replied. He thought he detected a small smile, which made his chest constrict. "I needed to see something besides the inside of the bedroom so I thought…"

"Yes…right, of course…" he said. "I'll um…I'll pour up the soup and leave you to it then." He heard her sigh and looked at her, longing to reach out and touch her…just feel her warmth. But he had promised, so his hands remained at his side. It didn't stop the longing though and he stood mutely, simply soaking her in the sight of her.

"I know it is later than you like to eat but…do you think you could sit with me while I do?" her voice was small and hesitant and it nearly broke his heart, again.

"Of course." He hoped the eagerness he felt at her suggestion wasn't reflected in his voice.

He helped her settle in a chair and then eased down into his own. She took a sip of the soup. "Hmmm… this is delicious," she said appreciatively.

"Thank you," he replied stiffly. Inwardly he flinched. Why did he have to always sound so terse…sterile even, especially with her? "I'm…um…glad you like it." There, he had managed one of the social niceties he'd heard somewhere. She looked across at him with an expression he couldn't read. But then, he wasn't very good at reading people's expressions, especially hers.

"Martin…" God, he loved the sound of her saying his name, especially in that soft silky tone she had just used. It made him want to take her in his arms and hold her and tell her all that he felt and never let her go, but he remained still and quiet. After all, that bit about holding her was the way he always felt now; his life just was all wrong without her near. "I appreciate that you are trying to give me that space I asked for…well, demanded really; but you're too quiet. What I said at the hospital… about us not going back to the way it was…" Her gaze drifted away from him as she left her thought dangling.

"What?" He asked, anxious to please her, to see to her every need or wish and afraid he could never do that.

"Hmmm? Oh um…It's just, you're so quiet, so restrained; even more than usual. We'll never get anywhere like that."

"I don't mean to… It's just that I…I don't know what to say. I don't want you to be unhappy and I seem to upset you… make you unhappy." Oh how he wanted to make her happy! He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything. Why was it so difficult, he wondered.

She looked at him, her face a mixture of frustration and hurt. "I know," she said meekly.

"Louisa, I …"

"Martin, I don't understand why it is all so difficult for you. There is so much about you that I admire…love. But sometimes…"

He swallowed with some difficulty as he digested what she said. She did still love him, she said; that was a good sign, wasn't it? "Yes, I know and I can't explain… it is just the way I am, have always been. I don't think …" his words dropped off as his mind caught in one of his endless loops. It frustrated him that he could be so logical, so definitive about everything else but when it came to her, he was simply rubbish.

"Think what?"

"I …um…I'm not …good at talking, especially about ... my feelings...love, I mean. I know I love you…and James; but I don't know what to do about it, how to manage it, or even really how to say it." I want to give you everything, his mind whispered. I would do anything…

She continued sipping her soup quietly, making no reply, seeming to be deep in thought. He watched her intently, as he often did but now, now he wanted to memorize every small detail. He wanted to be able to look back and recall every movement, every expression, and every nuance of this time.

"You are doing it again," she chided softly.

"What?"

"Watching me…staring. It makes me …uncomfortable."

"Oh…er, um…sorry." He tried to look away but slowly his gaze wandered back to her.

"Martin!" She huffed. "Why do you do that anyway?"

"I…it…" he remembered something she had said in the hospital, the first time, about being happy. "It makes me happy…more than anything; it calms me."

She sighed again but he thought he detected a hint of a smile on her face as she stared at her soup bowl. "You like watching me? That's lovely but why?" She sounded incredulous.

"You're beautiful," he replied simply. "Breathtakingly so…"

"Thank you, but there has to be more to it than just that. The sea is beautiful but you don't sit at your window and watch it all day."

"Not as beautiful as you and…" He hesitated, afraid to say too much, afraid of mucking it up.

"And?"

He felt an all too familiar sensation in his eyes as they filled with tears that he refused to let fall. Trying to calm himself, he swallowed again. "I used to wander around the village, you know. Everyday…just so I could see you…by chance. It made everything else…bearable. You um…you'll leave soon and take James with you and after you are gone…I want to remember…everything."

Her head shot up as it turned so she could look at him, a shadow of a flinch in her expression. "What?"

"I don't want to forget anything about you, the moments we spend together, everything."

"Martin, if this is your attempt to get me to stay…"

"No. I mean, I do want you to stay but….I understand that you won't," he said as he felt another crack form in his already shattered heart. "You said we couldn't go back to the way we were and I agreed. I don't want that either. I…I made an appointment…next week… with someone Ruth recommended. I can't seem to sort this out so I thought… well, I need to… for when you come back, if you come back." His voice faded hopelessly at the end

She saw his eyes fill, the redness indicating just how full they were. She also watched his expression, his eyes especially. They spoke of such sadness. His shoulders were slightly slumped and he looked lost…alone and frightened. And she knew in that instant she couldn't leave, not now. He needed her; he couldn't quite say it yet but he did. Didn't his appointment prove how much she meant to him, how much 'they' meant to him, how much he wanted her to stay, how hard he was willing to try? "I'm…I'm not going anywhere," she said hesitantly. "That is…as long as you keep your appointment and work with the therapist. I love you, Martin; I don't want to leave you. I don't want to take James away from you. But things must get better."

Those tears that had gathered in his eyes suddenly flooded out uncontrollably. "You…you're staying?" He swallowed again and took a deep breath. Then straightening up a little, he gave his head a slight nod. "Th…thank you."

They were still guarded with one another, still awkward. But he thought, perhaps he was finally finding the right direction. Perhaps he could finally find his way out of the darkness. As he looked again at Louisa, he felt the crushing weight of his failure with her lift just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

Many, many thanks to everyone who read and especially those who reviewed the beginning of this story. I have never had such a response to a story before and it really was uplifting to see that so many liked what I wrote. I originally intended the story to be a oneshot but so many people said I should continue that I thought I'd give it a try. Maintaining the emotional tone of the first chapter will be tough; it is a dark place Martin Ellingham is in. Here's hoping I can live up to expectations.

* * *

He dreaded the appointment but he had promised and it had been a condition for her to stay, so he would do it; he would do anything for her to stay. The days between her declaration that she would remain and his appointment were tense but not in the same way things had been before that horrid day when he felt his life shatter. He knew he was making the tension worse with his constant checking on her, feeling her pulse, checking her eyes, asking about her pain; but he couldn't help himself. A compulsion to take care of her drove him to it until she would order him out of the room, away from her. Thankfully she would relent after an hour, sometimes less, and let him come back to her; he needed that, to see and touch her. As he drove to Truro for the meeting with the therapist, he made himself remember that awful day, remember why he was doing this. It helped him move past his discomfort.

The therapist, Dr. Frederick Engelmann, asked him questions, so many questions. Many were similar in nature to ones he might ask in his surgery, general information queries to gather background on the patient. He abhorred this intrusion into his privacy but when it became too much, Martin Ellingham remembered the sight of Louisa on the pavement that horrible day. And he had promised. One of the things Louisa admired about him was his honesty, even if it was hurtful at times. It would be dishonest to her if he did not do as he had promised and work with the therapist. Besides, he knew he would have to change if he was going to be with her. Aunt Ruth had told him he had to change and if he couldn't to leave her alone. But he couldn't do that, leave her alone. He needed her. So he tried to answer the questions without too much acrimony.

Then Engelmann asked him a more difficult question, "Why are you here?"

Martin considered his answer carefully. Remembering his confession to Louisa in the operating room, he knew the answer. "I want to be a better husband…and father. I don't seem to be very good at it and… I want to."

"Why do you think you are not good at it?" The man seemed genuinely curious.

Staring at the other man mutely, Martin was stymied. How could he answer that one? Glancing away, various scenes played in his mind, scenes of him with Louisa, failing. "I don't seem capable of making my wife happy. I say the wrong things, do the wrong things, even when I'm trying to please her. And I've…withdrawn, making it more and more difficult for her to …" his mind wandered as he thought over the last few months.

"Withdrawn?" Engelmann asked. The question brought his mind back into focus and his attention snapped back to his therapist. "Yes, I…I find it more and more difficult to understand what she wants or needs and everything I say or do seems to frustrate her so I just… draw back. She says she wants one thing and then I find she really wants something else entirely… It is all so very confusing, you see."

"The opposite sex is often confusing," Engelmann said evenly.

"Yes, but… normally I don't care. Other than my Aunt Joan, I've never really been close to … to a woman," he said hesitantly. To anyone, he thought.

"No one…ever?" Engelmann seemed surprised.

"There was one other…sort of. I thought I loved her when I was in med school. I thought I wanted to marry her but she took a job in Canada and left."

"That must have hurt?"

He frowned. Did it hurt when Edith left? "I depended on my work to sustain me. It was the focus of my life. Being a surgeon _was_ my life. But then I developed haemophobia and everything changed. I went from being a highly successful vascular surgeon at St. Thomas' in London to the GP in a backwaters tin box village filled with idiots." As difficult as that was, giving up surgery he had survived and even done reasonably well, he thought. But now he'd be rubbish without Louisa; he didn't think he could survive that, not really.

"Surely there were other opportunities?"

"Possibly. But I had spent childhood holidays there and my Aunt Joan was living there so I thought… well, I thought it would be good to return."

"You were close to this Aunt Joan?"

"She loved me…like a son."

"And how do you feel about her?"

Closing his eyes to restrain his emotions, Martin remembered his promise to Louisa. "I loved her. She … died."

Engelmann asked other questions, most about his relationship with Joan and then with his parents. Thankfully the questions weren't too involved and Martin tried to answer but talking about them was difficult, so he didn't go into detail. Besides, how could he explain his parents to anyone? "And your wife…Louisa?" Engelmann's question felt like a laser scalpel, cutting right to his core, burning as it cut through the flesh. Martin couldn't help the tears that gathered in his eyes. Embarrassed, he tried to fight them which stalled his ability to respond.

"You love her?" came a follow up a moment or two later.

"Very much… always… since the day I met her, although I didn't realize it right away. She…she is my life; nothing is right without her." Engelmann jotted some notes quickly before looking up and asking, "She is your life, in place of being a surgeon? Have you told her this?"

"Yes, sort of…in a way."

"When? How long ago?"

"Umm… before we married."

"And since you've been married?"

"I tried…at first. But then…"

"I think we've covered enough today," Engelmann suddenly announced. "But there is one thing you must do before you come back next week."

Martin frowned at him. "What?"

"Tell her again." Martin swallowed. It wouldn't be easy; there was such a distance between them. Then Engelmann made it even more difficult. "In fact, perhaps you should say it to her everyday until next week. Consider it your assignment for the week. Tell your wife everyday what she means to you."

Martin's drive back to Port Wenn became one long practice session for ways to tell Louisa what he felt about her, how very much she meant to him. Formulating the words in his head came easily enough, he mused. Getting them through his mouth was another matter.


	3. Chapter 3

Doc Martin doesn't belong to me. How I wish he did! I'm just taking him and the others out to play. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

"How was it?" Louisa wanted to know when he returned home.

"Er…um….fine," he replied quietly.

She recognized his discomfort and for once didn't push. "You liked the therapist then?"

"Um…liked? He is…adequate," Martin replied warily.

"Good," she said with assurance she didn't feel. But he had gone and he said the doctor was adequate. She knew enough about the expression he was wearing to know not to probe further; it would only upset him and they'd both had quite enough of that lately. She's spent the last few months watching Martin crumble and while he was still very fragile, he seemed different in some way after his trip to Truro. Pushing wouldn't help matters. "I've bought fish for tonight. But I thought we might take a walk before…if you'd like. It is such a nice afternoon."

He considered her suggestion. "Er…em….yes; that would be …nice."

"I'll just get James then?"

Martin nodded tersely. He hoped this wouldn't turn into a question and answer session about his trip to Truro. He wasn't ready to talk about it, doubted he ever would be. But he knew she would be curious. She always wanted to know about him. He still wasn't used to the idea that anyone cared anything about him, really cared. A wisp of a thought or perhaps emotion fluttered thorough him. Was that such a bad thing really…that she wanted to know about him?

They walked the path along the cliff and slowly Martin realized she wasn't going to probe further. Unwilling to risk the baby wiggling or squirming and causing her shoulder further pain, he insisted upon carrying James. So with James firmly held captive in his right arm, they walked along side by side until after a few moments he felt feather like touches of her hand on his. It was a signal he had slowly come to recognize and he responded by enveloping her right hand in his left. The familiar calm that he felt when he touched her returned, along with the nagging dread of making a misstep.

Eventually they came upon a bench that overlooked the water. She led him to it and they sat. After making a little fuss over James, she settled back and let out a deep sigh. Martin didn't know what to make of that and his stomach clinched when she began to speak. "I know this isn't easy for you…going to the therapist and all. I do understand that much. And …" her mind seemed to wander as she sat staring out over the water.

He gave her a sideways glance, cautious of where her thoughts were leading. Not wanting to discuss his trip to the therapist any further though, he remained silent, hoping her mind would take a different turn.

"I remember when you first came here you weren't so tightly wound. You even almost smiled occasionally and…and even made jokes." He looked at her, confused as usual. He didn't remember being particularly jovial. She shrugged. "Roger told me…"

"Roger was one of the few people I met here with whom I could trade quips... jokes even. He was as sarcastic as I was. And I suppose we were both… well, shut down and it created a…an understanding."

She scoffed. "It is dry, your humor," she admitted. "It took me a long time to recognize it. You are so serious about everything and so wry when you do make a joke; it is easy to miss. But you were making jokes on our wedding night…before everything …"

"Yes, well… I was …happy." And he had been, so very happy in that little lodge alone with her. Things had gone smoothly until the damned smoke engulfed the room.

She smiled at him, really smiled, her eyes lighting her face and warming him immensely. "Yes, so was I" she said delicately. "But then…oh Martin, why did it all go so wrong?"

He looked at her, into her eyes, losing himself there. "I um…well, I was an idiot," he hesitated. Then, "You toppled me really, kept me off balance all the time, and suddenly there we were and I couldn't believe it. When I saw you at the church, in your dress… it took my breath away. And that miserable excuse for a honeymoon… I wasn't keen on the idea of one but, if you had told me you wanted one it would have been alright. I wanted to make you happy.

At first, everything was good between us. The flat in London… I didn't think. You wanted to…to put your touches on the place; most women do or so I understand. It seemed prudent to have it ready when we arrive, but I should have asked your opinion. It was all still so new to me, having someone else to think about…consider their feelings. And then I started thinking about…" his voice drifted away.

"Thinking what, Martin?"

"I'm not really equipped for relationships. I set people off all the time. I was so in love with you that it hurt sometimes and it frightened me, the feelings you created in me… still do. I thought …"

"Thought what?" She asked after he was silent for a moment.

"I thought you couldn't …it was impossible that you might feel the same about me…well, I thought it might…" tears sat in his eyes as he looked at her imploringly. "But as it turned out, you did. But I couldn't see how; how could someone like you care about someone…like me? I still don't understand. It seems I'm in the dark about it all; either that or so tongue tied I can't say what I feel. I've mucked it all up, I'm afraid."

"Yes, well…perhaps I might have been more understanding, more...patient," she suggested.

His look was one of utter surprise. "No! I think you've been quite patient …often. Other times, you seem to jump to conclusions, make assumptions. And I'm so terribly bad at saying what I'm feeling that it gets very confusing."

"Still…" she sighed.

He turned his head and looked at her fully. "Louisa, I don't want you to think…well, I mean…I know I am difficult…sometimes. And I really don't understand people. My … inability to…to grasp what it is you are saying or what you need; it isn't your fault."

"No, you're right; it isn't. But I don't help you understand; I just assume…things. And I do push you and when you don't get it, when you are so dreadfully clueless I just …I make it worse. And as for someone like me caring about some one like you… that's easy because I do. I just do. You are a very special man, Martin." She smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

" I did a lot of thinking while you were off to Truro; I thought I should, since you were enduring that for me, for us. I thought I should do some introspection too. And I realized that day…sports day… I was pushing you too hard. You were coming apart and I could see it happening but then you kept closing yourself off from me and I was so exasperated and you were trying, albeit failing miserably to understand what I wanted and all the while just plowing through and over others… and not handling any of it very well at all. I was so frustrated with you, with me, with everything. Thing was, I don't think I knew what I wanted; not really. It was just…you had been pulling away from me; running away almost. All of my life people have been running away and…well, it frightened me and I get angry when I'm afraid and I just kept getting more and more …wound up, like a spring. We had been doing so well together and then suddenly it just all fell apart again and we were caught in this spiral, spinning out of control…spinning down until we crashed that day."

"Yes, I'm sorry. I er…um…I don't think I understand why…there were so many things going on in my head and I felt it was all crushing me. And then my mother showed up and I got even more confused. But…" Was this now the time to tell her?

"But what?" she was looking at him expectantly.

Maybe not. Maybe he should explain first. "I wasn't trying to run away…to withdraw. I thought something must be terribly wrong with me…"

"I don't understand."

"I thought I must have some dreadful illness to behave that way, throwing away my chance. I wish I could explain it all to you, Louisa. But I can't explain what I don't understand. Perhaps in time…but right now…"

She was looking up at him and he could see that she was trying to understand. But he could see her fear too. Yes, this was the time to say it. "I meant what I said that day at the castle. I meant every word of it. I do love you, so much that I can't bear the thought of not being with you. I will always love you. You are everything to me, you and James. The two of you are my life; all the rest is just…well, it's not important. I like being a doctor; I like diagnosing … things. And I enjoyed being a surgeon. But there was always something missing in my life… you. I'm not trying to run away or withdraw. I just don't know how to be a husband…or a father. I see myself… hear myself behaving like my father and I don't want to be that way but I don't know how to be different." He paused mesmerized by the way she was looking up at him, her eyes moist with tears that had gathered there. Remembering his thoughts about Edith earlier in the day, he added, "I've never felt these things before and sometimes it overwhelms me. But I am trying to change; I want to change … for you."

She simply stared at him for a moment and then looked away to the sea. "We're a fine pair…a mismatch if there ever was one. But I can't imagine ever being with anyone else, Martin. We have to make this work; we both do."

A truce seemed to settle over their cottage after that afternoon. Whenever things became too intense or too combative, they retreated to different rooms. But it was different now, Martin mused a few days later. There wasn't the anger present…just frustration. That in itself was ….maddening.


	4. Chapter 4

On the following Saturday, Louisa wandered into his consulting room just as he was finishing some patient notes. She looked around and frowned, remembering Margaret at the airport. "Martin?"

"Hmmm?" he replied as he finished the last of the stack and looked up at her. She looked beautiful standing there, next to the window with the sunlight streaming in on her. He felt the all too familiar fullness in his chest that usually accompanied these moments, the feeling that his heart might burst with the joy of her.

"Where's your clock?" She asked as she glanced around. There was something in her expression that made him wary.

"Which one?"

"You know, your grandfather's clock…the one Ruth found in Joan's storage. I know you were working on it … before…"

"Yes, I was; repaired it actually. It works perfectly now."

"So where is it?"

"Er…um…" He didn't really want to revisit the day he told his mother to leave; the day he cut her out of his life.

"Martin?" She was looking at him intently now, her eyes demanding answers. She knew he was withholding something. She knew the answer of course, but what else had happened that day?

"My mother took it when she left." He was uneasy.

"Oh." Louisa frowned and cocked her head slightly. "Why would she take it? She didn't seem especially interested in it while she was here, but then she didn't seem particularly interested in anything."

"She wasn't. She had seen me working on it and knew it was valuable." He paused, deciding if he should tell her the rest. "She came here for money."

Louisa looked at him sharply. "What? I thought she came to tell you about your father?"

With a heavy sigh, he decided he should tell her about that day…after all, he had promised to change. "After you left in the taxi…" He closed his eyes, fighting back the hurt and despair of that day. "I was very upset, as you can imagine. She was in the kitchen…tried to be motherly with me but of course, she hasn't a clue as to how to do that. Said it was just the two of us now. I didn't want her here, didn't want it to be the two of us. I asked her why she had come…really. She gave me some rubbish about my father and how he told her he wanted her to tell me that he was sorry, that he did love me. But he'd suffered a stroke and the facts didn't match. So I asked her about it and got to the truth. He didn't say any of those things; he couldn't have. So I asked her why she was really here. She said she needed money…that my father had died almost penniless. She had no place to live."

"How awful," Louisa interjected, "that your money is all that she was interested in."

"Is it? I suppose. It is the way my parents always behaved. I'm not certain that either was capable of any true emotion, at least where I was concerned. But I knew it could be different; you've shown me that," he said as he looked up at her imploringly. "And I'm beginning to believe… " his gaze wandered away as his mind settled into a hazy thought.

"Believe what, Martin?" She asked softly.

"…that I am able to love and…be loved," he replied in a whisper.

"Oh Martin," she sighed as she stepped closer to him, reached over and caressed his cheek. "Yes, you are."

Martin relished her touch, took comfort from it. Perhaps talking to Louisa would help; they _were_ growing closer, it seemed. "I didn't want her here anymore or in my life ever. She gave birth to me but she wasn't a mother…Joan was, if anyone was my mother. I told her I wouldn't give her anything and she asked if I would see her penniless, without a home. I replied that I wouldn't see it, that I wouldn't see her ever again. Then I told her that I had a patient to visit and I wanted her out by the time I got back. I left and when I came back she and the clock were gone."

"I saw her at the airport. We…exchanged words, but I didn't realize what had happened. I'm so sorry, Martin."

Martin frowned. "Sorry for what? You didn't cause it, any of it. All you did was show me that things can be different; I can be different and I _was_ different for a time, before I shut down again." He paused before continuing. "Ruth said she remembers me as a small boy, very vulnerable and sensitive and she remembers me two years later, almost completely shut down. I feel I've been that way all of my life…shut down, shutting others out…trying to hide from people. Joan managed to crack through…some. But you… you broke through all my barriers. It frightened me as much as it thrilled me. It still frightens me. I don't deserve you, Louisa. I'm not the kind of man who can be happy…can make you happy. I'm not sure I even understand what happy is. But I want to; I've never wanted anything more."

Tears were rolling down his face by now. He couldn't hold it in anymore, all the hurt, the distance, the fear that had been his life until he met Louisa. And he was still afraid, afraid he wouldn't be able to work beyond his past.

She took his hand in hers, holding it her chest, over her heart. "Martin, I never realized…I mean, you've mentioned things from time to time but I never knew how starved you were as a child."

"Starved? No, I…"

A small smile cracked the corner of her mouth. "I meant for love, for approval, for all those things children need from their parents. We will work through this, Martin. You have talked to me, told me more in these past few days than in all the years we've known each other. It helps me to understand. And I think it helps you too."

He looked at her with tenderness "You do help me; you and James. But I feel so inadequate, so I retreat to what I know I am good at, being a doctor. I don't mean to retreat; it just happens. Please don't let me …I don't want to retreat from you."

Settling on the edge of his desk, Louisa looked at him thoroughly. Then with a playful glint in her eyes, she asked his medical opinion. "So Dr. Ellingham, do you think I am healed enough to properly show my husband just how very much he means to me?" She glanced down into his lap and looked back up with twinkling eyes.

Martin's eyes grew wide as he realized what she was implying. "Louisa, no! It's too early; you need more time to heal."

Leaning over and tugging at his tie, she smirked. "That's a shame, because I have really missed him... in that way."

Ignoring the creases she was likely putting in his tie and the reaction she was causing in his trousers, he looked up into her smoky eyes and as happened so often, he became engrossed in them. "He has missed you as well. But you need more time to heal and he needs time to … to get better too." Still, something changed within him as they gazed at one another. He thought perhaps, maybe he felt… happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Ruth popped in on Sunday. "Just wanted to see how you are doing, Louisa," she said as Martin let her in through the back door and she saw Louisa on the sofa in the sitting room.

"I'm getting better," Louisa assured her. "Martin is taking very good care of me," she added as she glanced over at him.

Ruth looked at her nephew, who seemed to stand even taller after Louisa's bit of praise. "I'm sure he is," she said dubiously. Then turning back to Louisa, she asked. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, no I'm fine. But thank you, Ruth. Please stay awhile and visit. Would you like some tea?"

"A glass of water would be nice," she said pointedly in Martin's direction.

Picking up on her less than subtle hint, he busied himself with getting her a glass of water and as he brought it to Ruth, he asked Louisa, "would you like some…or some tea?"

"No Martin, I still have half a glass of juice."

He stood awkwardly behind Ruth for a moment, deciding what he should do when suddenly James was heard upstairs, beginning to whimper. "I'll take care of him," Martin said before dashing out of the room.

Louisa smiled as she watched him leave. "I forget how quickly he can move sometimes. I've not met many tall men who are as agile as Martin."

"Yes, well… one learns to be agile when the other boys are always looking for ways to taunt."

Louisa turned her attention back to Ruth, her eyes honing in on the older woman's face. "Martin has told me some things…his childhood must have been awful."

Ruth sighed. "Awful makes it sound pleasant when compared to the reality. His father was cold and distant, not to mention a tyrant. But Margaret…there are no words to describe her. She made my brother look agreeable. She never wanted Martin really and packed him off to school as soon as she was able. Those summers he spent with Joan were his only experience with what one might call normal. Margaret got jealous and even took that away from him. After that, he spent most of his holidays at school. I took him for a few of the short ones, but I was never really very good around children. I'm afraid I wasn't much help. But at least he had a safe place to go. The longer holidays were torture, I'm sure. He told me a little about the other boys once, how they teased him. I'm sure you can imagine, a tall, lanky, uncoordinated boy who is socially inept and never quite fits in…"

Louisa began to chew on her lower lip as she processed what Ruth had just added to her knowledge of Martin. "No wonder he is the way he is," she muttered thoughtfully.

Ruth decided to take advantage of these few minutes alone with her. "Louisa, Martin came to me after you'd left for the airport. Reminded me so much of him when he was a boy, so lost and desperate. He told me how much he wants to be with you; I told him he needs to change for that to happen. I know he is seeing a therapist. But I must warn you that while some of his behavior might change … his responses to stimuli for instance, he will always be…Martin. I hope you don't expect too much from this."

"I'm already seeing a difference. He is talking more, sharing. And I meant it when I said he is taking very good care of me. He tends to over react sometimes, go into his doctor mode and it upsets me but I can see he is trying."

"Yes, I'm sure he is. But Louisa, you married him knowing how he is. Did you marry him expecting that magically he might be different? Perhaps you had some notion that you might save him from himself or some nonsense like that? Because if that's what you've been thinking, it won't work."

Louisa chewed her lip again, a frown forming on her brow. "I don't think so… maybe a little… but I don't think that's what I was thinking. I do need him to open up about his feelings. And I do wish he were a bit more social but I know he'll never really be comfortable about it. It's just… all my life people have abandoned me in one way or another and when he closes himself off from me I get frightened and that makes me act crazy, do and say stupid things. Is it wrong of me to want reassurances from him…about how he feels about me, that he's not going to disappear on me, I mean?"

"No, not wrong. But understand that most of the time you're going to have to take the initiative. I can tell you this though; he loves you … more than I thought possible for him. People who have endured what he did as a child are rarely able to handle such strong emotions later in life. Yet I see him struggling to do just that. James brings out a side of him that I hadn't seen since he was a small boy. And you… he needs you, Louisa. You make him human. If you choose to stay with him, you must understand that he will never be a warm and cozy romantic. He'll always be stoic and taciturn."

Louisa thought about it a moment. "I understand but…he isn't that way always; sometimes, some very precious moments, he _is_ warm and romantic."

Ruth opened her mouth to reply but they heard Martin descending the steps and she decided to remain quiet. He walked in carrying James, who was nestled against his chest, obviously happy in his father's arms.

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This one was short but more to come very soon. I hope you are still enjoying.


	6. Chapter 6

Sunday evening Louisa was watching some dreadful show on the telly; at least, Martin thought it dreadful… some sort of romantic rubbish. But he was trying to change, be more considerate of her needs, so he settled next to her on the sofa with is BMJ, content to read while she watched. Soon she was leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder and he thought that perhaps this wasn't so bad after all. He felt her shift and heard a soft sigh from her and looked up from his article. Her eyes were glued to the set as some tall blonde fellow eased up behind the woman in the show. She was engaged in some concentrated effort over a work table and viewers were expected to believe she didn't hear him behind her.

Martin watched Louisa out of the corner of his eye, wondering if this was a murder mystery instead of something romantic. He caught her smiling as she watched the scene unfold. Perplexed, he looked back at the telly. The man was directly behind the woman now but instead of killing her, he had wrapped his arms around her waist and was nuzzling into her neck, kissing her. She turned and the scene ended with them in a full embrace, kissing. Apparently it was left to the viewer as to what came next.

The scene was puzzling to Martin. Why would anyone welcome such a thing? He didn't think he would like it if someone came behind him unawares and attacked him like that. But Louisa clearly had found it enjoyable to watch. And apparently the actress had enjoyed the attention as well; but then, she was paid to do so. Very bewildering…

The show ended and Louisa turned off the set. She turned and smiled at him, making Martin wonder what she was thinking. If she was feeling romantic, it was still too soon, he thought. "Thank you," she said softly.

"What for?" Her gratitude surprised him.

"You didn't make a fuss when I said I wanted to watch this show. I've heard others talking about it and have wanted to know what is what with it. But I thought it might…"

"You thought it would upset me?" He asked with a dull ache in the pit of his stomach.

"Well…not upset exactly but…I thought you would disapprove."

"Louisa, I don't have much interest in television, except for an occasional documentary or perhaps some news. But if you find it entertaining..." He really was trying not to let his disdain show.

She smiled at him again. It must be working, he thought. "Well, I think I'll have some tea," she said as she stood.

"I can make it," he volunteered.

"No, no…that's alright. Finish your article. I need to get up and move a little anyway," she said as she walked to the kitchen. "Do you want some?"

"No, I'm fine." Martin watched her…or rather her bum as it swayed with her to the kitchen. A soft groan escaped him as he reacted to the sight. Far more entertaining than anything on the telly, he thought. He looked from her backside to the telly as a thought struck him.

She was busy pouring water into the kettle when he stepped up behind her. He supposed the running water disguised the sound he made as he approached. As she reached to turn off the tap, his arms made their way around her waist and she dropped the kettle. It clattered into the sink. "Martin?" she gasped. He nuzzled into her neck trailing little kisses to her ear and he felt her go limp in his grasp. When she turned, her eyes were wide but her entire face shone with the delight of him doing such a thing. Her right arm went up to his shoulder as he pulled her closer to him. "Oh Martin…" she breathed.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured just before he kissed her. "… so very beautiful," he whispered into her ear as he snuggled against her. "I love you so very much."

"Martin, upstairs…" she grabbed his hand and tugged.

"Louisa, it is still too soon," he insisted.

"No it is not!" And she tugged at him again.

Following her up the stairs, Martin wondered how he could resolve this. It was his fault he knew. If he hadn't …well, approached her that way, she wouldn't be insisting on…well, what she was insisting on. Safely behind the bedroom door where James wouldn't be awakened, he voiced his worry. "Louisa, it really is too soon. I just…I wanted to show you… I…" He was lost; how could he explain.

"Show me what Martin?" she asked softly, her face bright with happiness.

He swallowed. God, she was so beautiful standing there, her face alight with happiness, her eyes glowing in the soft lamp light. "I wanted to… well, I am trying to change. I thought…" Oh why had he done that ridiculous thing?

Her smile grew. "I see that," she replied. "That was very unexpected… at the sink."

"Yes, well…"

"Maybe you should remember that for when my doctor says I can properly respond."

Martin relaxed. "Yes, I think it has possibilities," he replied, pleased with himself. Maybe he could change after all. It was a small thing, surprising her like that. But the potential rewards… oh yes, definite possibilities.

He stood there, still flustered, staring at his wife and drinking in her exquisiteness. "Right," she said as she looked at him with unmasked desire. "Perhaps bed then? We could just…cuddle?"

"Yes, fine. That would be good," he agreed as he stepped forward to help her with her arm. He wanted to hold her; having her in his arms calmed him as nothing else ever had, except perhaps holding James.

He was nearly asleep when Louisa stirred. "Martin?"

"Hmmmm…"

I was thinking….Ruth was telling me earlier that I shouldn't expect too much from you…your therapy, I mean. She said you might change the way you respond to me but I shouldn't look for too much change."

"Erm…what?" He mumbled, confused.

"She said you'll always be Martin; that I shouldn't expect that to change. And I was thinking… should I try to change? I mean, is there anything about me that you would like to change?"

Martin stayed very still for a moment as he tried to process it all. Why the hell did Ruth meddle, he wondered. And what did she mean, he would always be Martin? Of course he would. "I er…I… did you believe I would become someone else? You are confusing me, Louisa."

"No, no I …I just think Ruth was warning me not to expect too much and she…" Louisa chewed her lip nervously. "She suggested that I might have married you thinking I would change you, save you or some nonsense as that."

Martin sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. He looked down at her, trying to ascertain how much of this was Ruth's speculation and how much of it was Louisa actually worrying. "I think I am making changes," he said softly. "I'm trying."

"You are, I know you are and I've seen the changes. You've been so much more talkative, more open with me. And I'm glad. But am I expecting too much? I don't want you to change, not fundamentally. I like this new side of you that I am seeing; I think it is more of the real you, the man underneath that gruff exterior. But I don't want to push you."

Martin reached to touch her cheek, a gesture that Louisa had come to recognize as an intimate one from him. "Louisa, I must change if we are to … to continue on together. It is difficult to talk to you about some things, yes; but I haven't regretted it. I was afraid to tell you some things, afraid of how you might respond but it has been alright."

"Alright?"

"Yes…good."

"And is there something I need to change?"

"No." Then he thought about it a moment. "Er…there is one thing perhaps."

She looked up at him inquisitively and he didn't sense any animosity so he voiced his wish. "Could you… not make fun of me please?"

"What?"

"Sometimes when you are upset with me, you do that; when I found you working at my desk, for instance… or on that awful night of our wedding when we were in the wood. You made fun of me trying to protect you from that creature, the horse. There have been a few other times."

"Oh Martin, I'm sorry. I do that, don't I? It isn't very nice of me, especially with your childhood, being teased and all."

"It … hurts, Louisa. I try not to let it and honestly I was teased so much, I don't listen… just ignore it usually. But coming from you… "

"You're right. And I'm glad you've told me. I won't do it again, Martin. But if I do, I want you to stop me, remind me that it's out of limits."

Martin swallowed. "Thank you."

"I love you, Martin. I don't want to hurt you."

"Me too. Um, I mean… I love you too."


	7. Chapter 7

At his appointment the following week, Martin shared the conversation he'd had with Louisa about his parents and the story of his mother's last day under his roof. Dr. Engelmann was impressed. "You did well, Martin. You're finally admitting your feelings, even the negative ones to your wife. She needs to hear these things, not only so she can understand but because in sharing our deepest secrets and fears, we build a bond with another."

"Yes, er…I can see that. We are…talking more and things are…calmer between us."

"Good, glad to hear your hard working is getting results."

"Another thing happened…" Martin started to say and then quieted.

"Oh? And what was that?"

Reluctantly he said, "My Aunt Ruth told Louisa not to expect me to change really, that my responses might change but I'll always be… me." He felt hopeless as he conveyed the thought.

Engelmann studied him for a long moment. "That's probably true in part. But it is really up to you, isn't it? Change is a part of life, isn't it…for various reasons? I don't see why you can't make significant changes, in your demeanor for instance, without changing who you are fundamentally."

Martin frowned. "But I want to be …" he quieted again, unable to say what he'd been thinking since their talk Sunday night.

"What Martin? Who do you want to be?"

"Well, more…sociable, more extroverted… like Danny Steele."

"Danny Steele?"

"Oh..erm…yes. He um… he proposed to Louisa…before I did." Oh why the hell did he blurt out that imbecile's name? Because Louisa liked him, enjoyed his company, that's why…

"Did she accept this Mr. Steele?"

Martin looked up at Engelmann sharply. "Oh course not! She wouldn't be married to me if she had…"

"Doesn't that suggest to you that she found him lacking in some way?"

Looking aside, Martin felt the impact of that thought. She had sent Danny away. He thought back to that evening, the one where she told him Danny was gone; the one when she told him there were twenty things about him that were crap but at least he was Martin through and through, the one when she'd gotten him drunk and he'd confessed his feelings. And he remembered the next day when she told him she loved him too. He hadn't believed it; he still struggled with believing it.

"Seems to me," Engelmann continued when Martin didn't speak, "that she chose you. I wonder why that is?" He left the question dangling and ended the session.

Martin was thinking about the entire conversation as he left Engelmann's office. Louisa had chosen him when she could have had a much more agreeable bloke. Why? His own mother never wanted him, why would Louisa? How could she choose him over someone much more companionable? He was rubbish as a mate although they did seem to be creating a bond, feeling closer. Things _were_ better.

Driving down the road to get to the main road back to Portwenn, he passed a flower shop. A memory flashed through his mind, the evening of their engagement when he'd brought a bouquet of flowers to Louisa at Bert's restaurant. She had been pleased, happy that he had brought her flowers. He'd spoiled it when he told her they were from a patient.

Turning the car around, he drove back to the flower shop and stopped. Inside, he looked around. They had roses in all colors. But roses seemed so commonplace. There was nothing commonplace about Louisa so he quickly dismissed them.

A clerk asked if she could help but Martin realized he was once again clueless. What kind of flowers _would_ she like? Finally the clerk suggested that they could make up a bouquet from the flowers in the cooler. Leading him to the back, she showed him all the possibilities. There were so many colors; it was very confusing. But then he had an idea…

Arriving back at the surgery, he entered through the back looking for his little family. Finding no one downstairs, he wondered if Louisa and James might be upstairs. But a search of those two rooms was fruitless. He'd just gone back down when she and James came in through the front. "Martin," she said with a smile, her eyes lighting as she saw him.

Martin was standing there, frozen in his spot as she walked in pushing James' pram. He'd quickly put his hands behind his back, holding the bouquet out of her sight. But when she smiled at him, he relaxed and slowly pulled the bouquet around, offering it to her. He felt foolish standing there, so obviously in awe of his wife, so eager to make her happy; foolish and hopeful.

Her face lit up as she saw the flowers. "Oh Martin, they are beautiful!" She reached for them and as she took them from him, she looked up at him with glowing eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. Her smile, her soft words felt like the greatest treasure he'd ever been given.

"I wasn't sure…didn't know what colors you would like," he offered awkwardly. "But then I remembered your dress … the one with the flowers on it." He felt like he was babbling but he couldn't help it; she liked his gift of flowers and it made him exultant. "You look so nice in that dress and you seem to like it and so I…"

She stopped him there with a kiss, a very suggestive kiss. And he decided that was even better than her smile.

Things around the cottage began to relax even more through the rest of the week and into the weekend. On Sunday, the little family went for a picnic out at the farm, confident they wouldn't be disturbed. James had fallen asleep on the blanket next to Louisa and she was staring out at the sea, a content expression on her face. Martin was staring at her, marveling that this beautiful woman was here with him. He didn't think he would ever believe he actually deserved this… her. She turned and smiled at him warmly and before he knew it, his mouth had uttered the words, "Louisa, I love you. I am lost without you."

Her kiss in response was even better than the one she had given him for the flowers. Perhaps this wasn't so difficult after all, this sharing business. He thought about all that he was learning, how to be a better husband. She deserved a better husband, someone better than he. But she had chosen him. The thought frightened him a little still but as he watched her with James as he woke, Martin knew he could never be happy without her and that he would do anything to keep their little family together.


	8. Chapter 8

I am still in awe of the support this little group of Martin followers provides. All the comments and reviews are wonderful and I really, really appreciate them.

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During his break for lunch on Tuesday, Martin stepped into the kitchen and found Louisa there, feeding James and singing. Martin cringed when he recognized the song; it was that awful tune from that horrid play time at the library Louisa had made him attend with James. "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I think I'm gonna eat worms," Louisa sang.

James seemed to be happy with it but Martin was not. "Don't," he said as he walked up behind Louisa. "Don't sing that to him."

Louisa looked up surprised and Martin could see the storm gathering on her face. "But why? He likes it," she explained.

"It's a horrible song," Martin insisted.

"It's just a little children's song, nonsensical really. And James likes it."

"James doesn't understand the words," Martin shot back. "It's a horrid thing for him to learn."

Louisa's expression changed to inquisitiveness. "Martin?"

"Have you listened to the words?" He demanded. "Think about it Louisa; what lesson are you teaching our child?"

"You don't think he would really eat worms because of the song, do you?" she fired back.

"No, of course not! James will be far too intelligent for that. But the rest of the words…"

He could see understanding dawn in her eyes. "You think… Martin, James won't take it seriously; it isn't meant to be taken seriously."

Martin drew up to his full height and glared at her. "It will put the idea in his head. Everyone says he looks like me…well, except for the ears perhaps. I was teased constantly in school and I don't want James start out believing that no one likes him. It'll only make the teasing harder to take. I don't want him to ever feel the way I felt…" All the old feelings of hurt and rejection seared through him.

"Teased for your appearance? Martin, children will find anything to tease the others with."

"Yes, I know that."

She looked at him critically, trying to comprehend what exactly was bothering him. "Martin, it's true you're not a _pretty_ man, but you aren't ugly. And when you aren't scowling, when you allow your face to relax, you look quite nice; at least, I think so."

Blinking, he glanced away. After a deep sigh, he turned back to her. "Louisa, I know what I look like; I look funny, big head, big ears, big lips…" He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I was awkward as a child, all arms and legs and uncoordinated. Between that and my funny looks, well… I just don't want James to feel like I did."

"Oh Martin," she sighed sympathetically. "You really didn't have a happy childhood at all, did you?"

"It was… alright," he muttered unconvincingly.

"But like you said at the castle that day, James isn't you and you're not your father. He'll have you there to help him if he gets teased. You won't make him feel even worse like your father made you feel."

"No, I won't… if he gets teased. I hope he will grow to look more like you, more…normal."

Louisa stepped closer to him and took his hand in hers. "I wouldn't mind it at all if he turns out like you…well, mostly. You're a good man, Martin; a gentle one when you're not on the defensive. You're very protective of the people you care about; and so very intelligent. And no matter how confused things have been, I've known I could count on you to look after James and me. You are the only person I've ever had in my life that I could depend on, Martin. While your ears are a tad big, it's more that they stick out sort of. You do have wonderful eyes, and when you're not scowling and frowning, your lips beg to be kissed. As much as I'd like to see you wear something besides your suits all the time, you do look very nice in them. There are a lot of nice things about you, really. No, I don't think it would be a bad thing if James was like you, not at all. Remember Martin, I chose you to be the father of my baby…well, not that I intended to have one just then, but…"

"Louisa…" he whispered as he felt something crumbling inside of him.

"No Martin, let me explain." She took a deep breath and frowned. "When I realized I was pregnant, I did think about an abortion, briefly. But I realized it might be my only chance to be a mother and even though I didn't think you would…well, that you wanted children, I did. But I didn't want just anyone's babies, Martin. I had other opportunities, other men who wanted to marry me; not many but…some. But I never loved them, not the way I love you, so I didn't want to have their babies. I choose to keep the baby because it was _your_ baby, Martin; yours and mine. Even if we never worked out, I wanted that part of us."

Martin stood frozen, tears gathering in his eyes. "You _wanted_ my child?" he asked with incredulity.

"Yes Martin, I did. I do."

Standing mutely before her, Martin couldn't believe what she was telling him. Why would any woman want his child? He looked from her to James, to their sweet little boy, and felt a tear slide down his cheek. James was such a beautiful gift, he thought, the most precious gift anyone had ever given him. He turned his gaze back to Louisa. "Thank you…for not…getting rid of him, for saying what you just said." He reached for her, his hands trembling and shaking from too much contained emotion. Touching her cheek with his left hand, he marveled at how much he needed her.

Then he remembered the reason for the conversation. "But I still don't want him to learn that song," he said gruffly.

Louisa looked up into his eyes, her eyes dark with emotion. "Alright Martin, I won't sing it anymore."

He dipped his head as if it were a handshake, sealing their agreement. Then looking into her eyes, part of what she had said hit him. "Louisa," he said softly, "I didn't ever think about having children. I thought…well, there didn't seem much point to thinking about it. But when you showed up at my back door that evening, when I saw you…" He swallowed, the emotions of that encounter flooding through him.

"Yes Martin?"

"I was surprised. It took me a few moments to … to…take it in. And then you were leaving and I didn't have a chance…that is to say, everything got all muddled and I said all the wrong things. It frightened me, that I would be a father but…" He took a deep breath, his emotions running much faster than his mind.

"But?"

"I…you were having my child and it made me feel…" How did he feel? Everything had been so mixed up. He had been happy to see her again; it was like he could breathe again. But there was this baby thing, a huge thing if her belly was any indication. And she'd said it was his…but she didn't want to get married. Why else would she be there then, if not for him take responsibility and marry her? And before he could come to terms with all the emotions that were racing through him, she was walking away. "I wanted you to stay… to talk about it, us. Everything was so confusing but," his eyes dropped to her abdomen, "you were carrying my child and it felt…good." He looked back up to see her reaction, to see if what he said was making any sense to her.

Her eyes were glistening and she looked like she might be fighting back tears. He hadn't intended to make her cry. What had he said that made her cry? Then she all but fell into him hugging him, "Oh Martin…"

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "I was still so in love with you, Louisa; and then you said it wasn't my problem and you walked away. I can't tell you how much that hurt…for you to walk away like that. I deserved it, I knew; but it hurt anyway."

She straightened up and looked at him. "I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. I shouldn't have said what I did. It just upset me, seeing another woman here with you. I thought…I thought you had moved on and _that_ hurt."

"I was helping Edith with a paper… an article. It was a mental exercise, a relief; something to concentrate on instead of thinking about you, how much I missed just seeing you. I thought about you all the time, you know, while you were away. Later, I realized there was more to Edith's agenda. She wanted to pick up from twenty years ago. But I didn't. How could I want her when all I could think about was you?"

She hugged him again. "That's one of the sweetest things you've said to me ever, Martin."

"Oh, I don't know…it's just…how I feel."

Louisa tilted her head and looked at him mischievously. "I don't suppose you could cancel your appointments for the afternoon, could you? We could go upstairs and I could make you feel some other things too."

She spoke in a serious tone but Martin realized she was teasing him because of her eyes. "Mrs. Ellingham, you are going to make trouble for your husband. He won't be able to concentrate on his patients this afternoon if you continue to talk like that."

"Oh really?" she asked playfully. "Oh dear, can't have that now, can we?" As she turned to pick up James, she reached behind him and pinched his bum, shocking him. "Louisa!"

"Oh, sorry; did I hurt you?"

Martin stared at her, trying to decide on a response. "Just wait, Mrs. Ellingham; your turn will come."

He heard her chuckle as she carried James through the sitting room to go upstairs. Then a thought came to him and he hurried after her catching up to her in the bedroom. She turned when she heard him and smiled. "Change your mind?"

"Er…um…no… But, I just wanted to say, about that song and James and how he will get along …He um…he'll have an advantage that I didn't. He has you as his mother." Before she could respond, he was out of the room and headed downstairs.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you all once again for all the support. And I love reading the stories and hunger for updates. Don't know how I'm going to make it through to 2015 and a new series/season of the show.

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On Wednesday evening, as they were just finishing cleaning the kitchen. Louisa noticed that Martin seemed deep in thought and he had been very quiet since surgery had closed. "Martin, are you alright?" she asked as he put the last of the dishes away.

"Yes, of course," he answered automatically.

"You seem….distracted, like you are thinking about something else."

"I do? I erm…I suppose I am."

"Oh?"

He motioned for her to sit and he sat across the table from her. "I um… was thinking about our honeymoon."

Louisa laughed. "How awful."

"Yes, it was," he agreed as he looked at her warily. "We should have had a proper one; I should have given you that, given us that."

"Martin, it's alright, really…it is." She reached across and took his hand in hers and held it. "You were willing to have that night away and it did start well."

"No….it's not alright," he insisted. "I think we should have one… a honeymoon, not just a night in a lodge. It will require planning and you really shouldn't fly anytime soon. Is there someplace you would like to go that doesn't require air travel?"

Louisa looked at him, dumbstruck. Martin wanted, actually wanted, to go on a honeymoon? Her mind began to clear and the practicalities began to sink in. "What about James?"

"You had suggested that we get away, the three of us, when my mother was here, before…everything. Perhaps we could take him still?"

Louisa looked across at him, chewing her lower lip. "But if it is to be our honeymoon…people usually don't take their children on their honeymoon Martin."

"Right…yes…of course." He looked down, his chin nearly on his chest but she could see his eyes peering up at her with that eager look he sometimes had when he was contemplating intimacy.

"If we could find someone to watch him though, it would be nice…just the two of us," she said. His head popped up, his eyes wide with excitement. There's that little boy again, Louisa thought as she watched him.

"It would be," he agreed keenly. "I could make inquiries…"

"Let me do that. You look into places to go that fit your travel requirements for me; someplace far away from here." She gave his hand a slight squeeze as they sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then softly she said, "Martin, you realize that people usually… that a honeymoon involves…"

"Yes…"

"Will my doctor allow that?"

"You will have a follow up scan soon; next week in fact. Your doctor will know more after that," he answered eagerly, feeling even lighter than he had when he left Engelmann's office..


	10. Chapter 10

They're not mine but I do love to take them out and play with them from time to time. Happy reading.

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That week's session with Dr. Engelmann seemed a little easier to Martin. Engelmann wanted him to talk more about his parents, his mother especially. He hesitated at first but then began telling the therapist about her treatment of him as a child, how she never wanted him around and rarely spoke to him except to criticize. The more he talked, the more he remembered her coldness and disdain. All of it seemed to pour out of him, the pain of being Margaret Ellingham's son. He told Engelmann about being looked in the cupboard under the stairs and how most of the time she didn't even tell him why. He shared a few attempts at trying to connect with the woman and even explained the details of her two visits to his home in Portwenn, especially her first visit and her rejection of him since they had talked about her last visit before. By the time he was finished talking and answering the few questions the doctor had, Martin was exhausted. He felt as if he had been carrying a heavy weight around forever but now it was lighter. As the session concluded, Martin looked at the therapist. "I told Louisa the other day that our son will have an advantage that I didn't."

"Oh?" Engelmann looked at him, intrigued.

"Yes, I said that our son has her as a mother." He paused and then added, "I wish my mother had been more like Louisa, caring and involved. He is a very lucky boy… and his father is a lucky man."

"Have you told her that...that your boy is lucky to have her and so are you?"

"Erm...I'm working on it."

Louisa actually had two scans the following week, one of her head and one of her clavicle. The shoulder was mending nicely but would require the sling for another week or two. The scan showed Martin's work was holding and after a few more weeks of caution, it shouldn't bother Louisa ever again. Both Ellinghams were satisfied with the results.

As they got into the car to leave the hospital, Martin paused. "It is past time for lunch and you haven't eaten all day. Perhaps we should stop some place to eat?"

Louisa looked at him and smiled. "Martin Ellingham suggesting we eat out?"

"Er…um…yes. You need to eat and I am rather hungry as well. And…." His eyes cut to her expectantly.

Louisa looked at him curiously. "What Martin?"

"I thought…perhaps… a celebration of sorts?" Martin was very unsure of this new territory; he wasn't accustomed to celebrations. Edith had told him once she could tell when he had something to celebrate because of what he prepared for dinner. He wanted celebrating with Louisa to be different ... better.

"That would be nice…yes, a celebration. Now we can better plan our honeymoon," she replied.

"Yes," he said as he started the car. "I remember a place near here; hygiene practices were tolerable and the food was acceptable."

"Sounds nice." Louisa tried not to smile too much at his critique; he was after all just being Martin.

The restaurant was very nice, Louisa thought. Martin, of course, ordered fish but encouraged her to order whatever she wished, within optimal nutritional values. She decided on chicken. He even managed not to grimace when she ordered a small sweet for dessert. He ordered fruit, so she wouldn't have to eat her dessert alone, he explained. Even in his quirkiness, this was the Martin she loved so dearly, Louisa thought as she watched him from across the table.

"I um….I was thinking… about our honeymoon," he said softly, somewhat embarrassed.

"Yes?"

"Well, um…we could go to Scotland; you said far away. Or…I thought, er…emmmm…. Maybe we could…um…" He both looked and felt like the words were sticking in his throat.

Louisa looked at him sternly but with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "Out with it Martin; where are you thinking of taking me?"

"I thought… er…. Um…perhaps London?"

"London?" Louisa couldn't believe what she was hearing. For a romantic get away he wanted to take her to London?

"Yes, well…perhaps it isn't such a good idea. I just thought…"

Pushing back her initial reaction, which was frustration, Louisa looked at him more closely. There was something more to his thinking, she realized; more than he wanted an excuse to go to London. "What did you think, Martin?" She tried to sound calm, neutral even.

"There are so many things to see and do there, galleries and museums, opera or perhaps a show. And there are other things, places I'd like to show you."

"True, there are many things to do in London," she said smiling. "Perhaps that would make a nice trip for us sometime later but on our honeymoon, the only thing I want to see or do is you, Martin Ellingham."

His eyes widened with surprise. Surely she couldn't really mean that. He enjoyed their times together and thought she did as well, but surely… "You… you can't mean that," he scoffed uncertainly.

She looked directly into his eyes, her own bright with anticipation. "But I do. I want us to have that time for us to be together, alone Martin; just us. We need that, I think."

His insecurities battled with his overwhelming desire for just that, making him afraid. "But…"

"You don't want to be alone with me?" she asked carefully.

"No, I do…er…it's just…um, I'll… ruin it," he mumbled dejectedly.

She reached across the table to touch him and he took her hand gratefully. "No, you won't. You were perfect at the lodge before all the smoke… so considerate and sweet…and even funny. It was nice and I want more of that Martin; the real Martin that hides most of the time. We seem to do better when it is just the two of us and we're alone, no one interrupting."

He looked at her in utter adoration. "I enjoyed that as well…being with you and yes…I want more of that too."

"Then, no London. Scotland would be alright. Or we don't have to go that far away; just far enough away from Portwenn that no one intrudes."

"Yes… that would be good." He tried not to look too excited but the thought of several days alone with Louisa after what she had just said had him spinning. She wanted to be alone with him, all alone…just them, and she said he wouldn't ruin it; she trusted him not to ruin it.. He decided that he would do whatever he had to do not to spoil it, even if it meant not saying a word during the entire trip. But no, that's not what she wanted either; after all, she said he had been considerate and even funny in that short time before their wedding night had been ruined. He would seek Dr. Engelmann's advice, he thought.

They drove back to Portwenn, Louisa's hand in constant contact with him, either on his thigh or in his hand. She leaned closer to him as well and the feel of her so close was intoxicating for Martin. The atmosphere had deteriorated between them so much in that last months, largely due to his behavior he acknowledged, that even though they slept in the same bed, he had felt they were worlds apart. But in the car that afternoon, he felt the closeness again, the warmth that was his Louisa.

"I um…I asked Morwenna is she would watch James until dinner," he confessed as the car rolled through Portwenn toward the surgery. "She said she would take him to her house and I told her that would be fine. She wanted to prepare a meal for Al apparently."

"So we have another hour or two before we have to collect him?" Louisa asked.

"Um yes, possibly, if you want to wait."

"I do. I think we have some celebrating to do still," she said with a wicked grin.

Martin gulped at the implications. "Er…um, yes. Perhaps you are right," he replied, suddenly hot and uncomfortable in his seat.

The last few months, as things had worsened between the couple, Martin had found sleeping next to Louisa difficult for several reasons. For one, she was a large source of his fear that seemed to bubble up into his dreams. At first when he had awakened in the night, he'd been tempted to wake her too simply from sheer need of her reassurances. But she needed her sleep, so he tried not to wake her and would leave the bed and even the room as quietly as possible. Consequently, the assurances never came and his fears grew. His withdrawal from her included withdrawal from moments of intimacy, which led to the other reason why it was so difficult to sleep next to her; Louisa was too enchanting for him to merely sleep. He needed to touch her, hold her, to make love to her. But he had been too afraid.

A few minutes later they stood toe to toe in their bedroom, their eyes locked in loving gazes, savoring the closeness they felt. Careful of her arm, he began to caress her tenderly but after months of denial, Martin found his self control weakening. It didn't help when Louisa let out a soft moan before attacking his lips.

They took the better part of the two hours left to them, reacquainting themselves with the enjoyment of one another as they became one. Not wanting to leave the new warmth they'd created in their bed but knowing that he must, Martin showered quickly and left to fetch James, leaving Louisa soaking in a soothing bath, both of them feeling more fulfilled than they could have imagined just a few weeks ago. Martin contemplated the afternoon as he walked to Morwenna's house. His mind jumped forward in happy anticipation of the honeymoon with just the two of them and he felt as if he were walking on clouds. He couldn't remember ever feeling this good about anything in his life; no worries, no remorse, no…anything negative entered his thinking. By the time he made it to Morwenna's, he was smiling broadly, a sight that neither she nor anyone else in the village had ever seen before.


	11. Chapter 11

I've struggled with this one trying to get it right. It still feels a bit off to me but it is as good as it is going to get, I think. Hope you enjoy.

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Louisa was improving daily and feeling more like herself. Her confidence, so heavily shaken in the last months, was returning as well. One benefit of her being injured and the subsequent surgery was that she was spending more time with James, just being with him. He was trying to walk now, growing so quickly she lamented. But she was equally proud of him; he really was turning into quite the little charmer and she loved taking him on walks through the village, pushing his stroller and stopping to visit with his admirers.

But that lead to questions and insinuations too. Seemed half the village had an opinion about what she should do about Martin. Few seemed to believe she was staying with him because she wanted to or that their relationship was improving dramatically. Oddly enough, Mrs. Tishall seemed to be one of the more supportive inquisitors. Louisa had stopped by the pharmacy to pick up more nappies and Caroline Bosman was inside. "Oh hello Louisa," she greeted as Louisa wheeled the stroller through the door.

"Caroline, how are you? Seems like I haven't seen you in ages," Louisa replied. "I heard what happened, are you alright?"

"I am, almost back to normal, but you are obviously not, since the curmudgeon has kept you locked away up on the hill. I can't believe you are staying there, Louisa, after what he did to you."

"What?" Louisa fired back. "He didn't do anything…unless you count saving my life."

"As he should after the way he treated you and then caused your accident. I heard what happened and I just can't tell you how surprised I am that you let him anywhere near you."

"He didn't cause my accident! I ran across the road without looking; he didn't make me do it."

"Sure he did with the way he was behaving. Honestly Louisa, why do you put up with him?"

Louisa was fuming, her anger boiling over. "I put up with him as you say, because I love him and he loves me and yes, we were having a rough patch and neither of us was behaving well but…but he loves me…enough to go chasing all over Cornwall to find me when he realized I was in danger. And he …he did the surgery that saved my life, even though it was against all the rules. And he was going to follow me to Spain when I was running away, just drop everything and go after me because… because …"

"Because he finally realized what an arse he'd been?" Caroline shot back.

"Maybe but… he … "

"He'd be lost without you, wouldn't he Louisa?" Mrs. Tishell joined in softly. "I've seen the way he watches you ….such longing there, you know. I've watched it ever since he first came here, you know. Anytime you were around, he just couldn't take his eyes off you. I remember all those things he said at the castle that day; he meant them for you. He stayed here for you." Then looking across at Caroline, Mrs Tishell grumbled. "How many men you know'd give up their career, and a big one he was going back to in London too; how many would give that up for their woman? He did. He stayed here for Louisa because he knew this is where she'd be happiest and he can't bear the thought of her being unhappy. It makes him crazy sometimes, sure….cause he really can't stand us much. But he does it…for her, for them to be a family."

Louisa looked at the pharmacist in shock. She was actually championing Martin and Louisa as a couple….together. She really was better. "Thank you, Mrs. Tishell."

Sallie Tishell nodded shyly but her eyes sparkled. "Don't pay any attention to what the others are saying, Louisa. Your Doctor Ellingham loves you with everything that's in 'em. And you love him too, I know. And anybody says anything against you, then they're just jealous of what you got."

Caroline chuckled. "Well, if that isn't rich…the crazy woman who kidnapped your baby is defending your marriage now. But what he's done is indefensible."

Louisa stared at her supposed friend. "Martin's different. He's different than other people and most don't understand him; they want him to be like them and won't see that he has his own qualities that make him special. All you want to see are the rough edges. But there is more to him, so much more and my mistake was not remembering that…expecting him to be like other people…forgetting that the reason I was attracted to him in the first place was that he isn't like everyone else. He came to sports day because I asked him, not because he wanted to be there but because he felt it was his duty to me. He rearranged his schedule and left patients sitting at the surgery to come down there and to try to be who I wanted him to be. Problem was, I kept changing things on him and it frustrated both of us. He stayed as long as he could but I wasn't happy with that; I kept trying to prolong his agony. And when he'd finally had enough of me being an idiot, he started walking back to his other duty, the surgery. I am the one who chased after him, yelling and complaining the whole way, I might add; and I was the one who ran into the road without thinking. I continued to be an idiot at the hospital, although when he arrived later, I'll admit he overdid things a little. But still, it was me; I was the one pushing. Martin tries to do what he thinks I want. Sometimes he just doesn't know how or maybe he isn't sure what it is I want because I'm not sure either."

"Oh come on Louisa, you can't take all the blame…."

"No, I'm not. Martin is taking responsibility for his part of our rough patch. But he isn't the ogre everyone tries to make him to be. And if you ever gave yourself the opportunity to know him a little better, you'd see that. I was there, Caroline, when he broke through your front door to save your life. He dropped everything at the surgery because when the lab report came through, he knew you were in danger. He drove out to your place and broke through the door and …and you probably don't remember but…he was so gentle with you, so caring."

"Yeah, until he knew I was alright and then he turned into a troll again."

"Did you give him a chance to be anything else?"

Caroline looked at her bemused. "No…I suppose not."

Louisa looked away, not wanting to forgive her friend just yet. "Thank you, Mrs. Tishell, for the nappies and for …for saying what you said. You're right, those words were meant for me and he has stayed here for me. I am a very lucky woman." With a toss of her pony tail, Louise turned the stroller and exited the shop.

She pushed James in the stroller up the hill as fast as she could, anger fueling her every step. Martin was in the kitchen making espresso when she pushed through the back door and shut it with a bang before letting out a loud huff. Martin stood quietly, watching her, mentally speculating what the problem might be.

"Are you alright?" he asked as calmly as he could; fear gripping him that he had done something wrong, again.

"No! This…this village…." She barked, still angry over Caroline's comments and the attitude of many of the villagers.

"Mmmmm…." He was relieved he wasn't the cause of her anger and also curious as to what had. But a quick study of her expression told Martin that now was not the time to probe. Louisa needed to calm down first. "Would you like an espresso? Or perhaps some water; you look hot," he said as he turned to the machine to retrieve his cup.

When she didn't respond, he chanced a glance at her. Instantly he realized that she took his words as a double entendre. The way she was looking at him, face flushed, eyes sparkling and an expression he normally associated with the bedroom, sparked heat within him as well. For a moment, they were in their own place apart from the rest of the world, their eyes communicating far more than either was capable of verbally. But then the sounds of patients in the waiting room filtered through and the spell was broken.

Louisa had seen Martin's transformation in that moment. His expression had gone from concern, to curiosity, to his eager to please look. She also saw the disappointment that settled over him as the noises drifted in from the other room. "Louisa, I have patients," he mumbled dejectedly before turning to walk back to his consulting room. Hurriedly she caught him just before he dipped his head to go under the stairs. "Martin," she said softly.

He turned, his head already lowered for the hallway and she used it to her advantage to kiss him; nothing special, just a chaste peck on his cheek, but he paused and looked at her tenderly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I um… I love you, you know," he quickly added before ducking under the stairs and turning into his office, leaving Louisa smiling.


End file.
